


86. discovering america

by piggy09



Series: The Sestre Daily Drabble Project [8]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Also: things are deep fried that should not be, Fluff, Gen, Yeah that's right, just generally
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 07:11:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7425100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What…<i>is</i> that,” Sarah says.</p><p>Helena shoved half the deep-fried-thing-on-a-stick into her mouth and chomps it, one terrifying shark-like bite, before pulling it back out of her mouth. She answers Sarah’s question through a mouthful of food, a string of garbled syllables – <i>aghou kurner rawrah rayguhnen farh</i>. Then she sees Sarah’s face, swallows, and says: “A zucchini wrapped in bacon and then fried. In fat.” She shoves it at Sarah’s face. “Do you want.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	86. discovering america

**Author's Note:**

> [warning: vomit]

“Sarah!” Helena yells loudly. “That one!” and she makes a beeline for the latest food stand at the fair – before Sarah can say _I know our stomach has a limit on fried food_ she’s already vanished into the crowd. Sarah is left lone in the middle of the masses, holding a half-eaten bag of kettle corn and a fistful of napkins smeared with various greases. She feels like she’s gonna be sick, and they haven’t even gone on any rides yet. But like hell she’s letting Helena loose on a fair _alone._

So she fights through the crowd and finds Helena waiting patiently by a row of ketchup dispensers. She’s eyeing the little cups thoughtfully.

“You can drink it,” she says, eyes narrowed in thought.

“If you drink the ketchup,” Sarah says, “I will actually kill you.”

“A good death,” Helena says, shrugging a shoulder. “There are worse ways to die, than with a bright red mouth and a throat full of ketchups.” Before this deep bit of wisdom can settle, the pimply, tired-looking teenager running the booth yells out a number and Helena visibly brightens. She hops over to him and collects her – thing.

“What… _is_ that,” Sarah says.

Helena shoved half the deep-fried-thing-on-a-stick into her mouth and chomps it, one terrifying shark-like bite, before pulling it back out of her mouth. She answers Sarah’s question through a mouthful of food, a string of garbled syllables – _aghou kurner rawrah rayguhnen farh_. Then she sees Sarah’s face, swallows, and says: “A zucchini wrapped in bacon and then fried. In fat.” She shoves it at Sarah’s face. “Do you want.”

There’s a strand of bacon hanging, limp and greasy, from inside its fried dough cocoon. “No, thanks,” Sarah says. “I’m alright.”

Helena shrugs easily – _okay_ – and keeps contentedly chomping away. They meander away from the booth.

“So,” Sarah says, throwing her arms out open wide, “this what you dreamed of?”

“Yes,” Helena says fervently. With the fried zucchini-whatever-the-fuck in her mouth the word comes out _rrhef_. “Much eatings. So many children.” She points upwards, to where someone buckled into some sort of orb is flung into the air. They watch the orb hit the end of its ropes, ricochet back to earth. A string of vomit flies out of the orb…ride…thing. Helena says: “Also that.”

“We’re not riding that.”

“I know,” Helena says, voice still easy. Pauses. “Can we play the games with the guns though.”

“Doesn’t really seem fair,” Sarah says. “Gonna assassinate some targets, _sestra_?”

“Yes!” Helena says. “I will do it for the teddy bears. For Kira. And Gemma and Oscar. Can you mail bears to Florida.”

Sarah gives her a shrug – _I dunno_ – and Helena accepts it. Sarah pops more kettle corn into her mouth. Something tight in her chest is uncoiling, just being here – maybe it’s the sound of children laughing, or maybe it’s the way Helena’s face lights up whenever she sees another flashing neon sign containing the word _deep-fried_. Or maybe it’s just being here. Maybe it’s just the fair that makes her happy.

Helena has somehow been steering them in the direction of one of the shooting booths, another bored-looking teenager doing the token yelling about _fa-_ bulous prizes. Helena shoves the entire rest of the zucchini into her mouth on the way and dumps the stick in the trash. Her hands are heading towards her pants to wipe themselves off when Sarah makes a pained noise and shoves her a napkin.

“Thank you, mother- _sestra_ ,” Helena says gravely, and when Sarah makes a horrified face she snorts.

“Yeah, whatever,” Sarah mutters unconvincingly. Helena raises her eyebrows at her, very clearly not buying Sarah’s nonchalance. But she practically skips towards the booth anyways.

“Hello!” she says, slapping a greasy handful of bills in front of the poor teenager’s face. “I am here to win bears.”

The kid takes Helena’s bills and Sarah thinks: poor sap, doesn’t even know what’s about to happen.

It takes Helena one round to win an enormous stuffed bear.

She keeps going anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please kudos + comment if you enjoyed! :)


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